


Midnight Fever

by loyallyloved



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dracula Influence/References, F/F, Femslash, Smut, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23116156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loyallyloved/pseuds/loyallyloved
Summary: The attack is bloody and painful and over before she knows it. When Yennefer Vengerberg wakes up again, she finds herself in desperate need to feed. After a small, frenzied bloodbath, she attracts the attention of The Chapter: Romania's ruling coven of vampires. But it's Tissaia de Vries, the rectoress of said coven's Aretuza Castle, who Yennefer finds herself hoping to garner more attention from. As Tissaia and The Chapter face the looming return of Vladimir Dracula, better known as their Creator and rumored Destroyer of the Continents, the rectoress must also face the fact that her long stilled heart has suddenly beat again for a certain rebellious student with violet eyes.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 57
Kudos: 101





	1. Yennefer's Turning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are vampires real? We're about to find out.

Her eyes - thoughtful and deep brown in hue - stared above at Bran Castle. They swept over russet roofs, faded stone walls, and windows dotted along the width of the keep. 

The mythology behind Transylvania funded its economy, that much Yennefer knew. The museums and festivals and tourist shops boasted everything vampiric, from painted cups to vials filled with 'the blood of a Saint.' It was embarrassing, really. So desperate were the townspeople that they had to go out of their way to pretend vampires existed and Dracula was ready to spring out of the forest with his fangs bared. They even traipsed in and out of Bran and Brasov in waves, selling their wares to any tourist that fell for the mysticism of it all. 

No, Yennefer wasn't here for the childish tales.  
She was here for the architecture. 

The styles painting Romania's landscape were gorgeous and well-kept and alive. Baroque, Gothic, Romanesque - the list went on. Having traveled little beyond her home in Wolverhampton, England, Yennefer took the first opportunity to leave the UK behind after she had graduated with her degree in architecture. _And her first job?_ Restoring villas and castles in Transylvania, Romania. Who could brag about their first job being as extraordinary as that? Hard work had gotten her the credentials, sure, but it was her passion that solidified the deal. 

Not to mention her beauty. Her employers took a fancy to that. 

It was something Yennefer still found herself growing accustomed to. Before graduation, she had suffered from a moderate (to severe) form of scoliosis. Her spine had started to drastically curve, and the doctors rushed to brace it. But the brace hadn't worked and major surgery was to be had. Yennefer waited until she was done with university to have it, and then the recovery took months. At 23 now, with a spine as straight as her ambitions, she was ready to face the world. But the world was vast, and the people were...

"You done staring? C'mon, we paid 30 bucks for this tour and you keep falling behind," Kalis teased, thrusting Yennefer from her thoughts and pulling her back into reality. The blonde American propped a hand on her hip and raised a plucked brow. 

Kalis Maier was Yennefer's newest roommate. The girl was barely nineteen but in the short time Yen had gotten to know her, it was clear Kalis liked to pretend otherwise. A lot of risky clothing, a lot of makeup, but also a lot of tantrums when she didn't get her way. When Kalis told her that her dad was a rich CEO back in New York, the raven-haired woman hadn't doubted her story for a second. But when Kalis went on to explain that her dad's parents emigrated from Romania as poor sheep farmers years previous, Yennefer started to. 

"Sorry," she replied with a brief smile in the blonde's direction. "I got distracted again."

"Lemme guess. The architecture? Y'know we're going on that Bran tour on Friday. Can't you just stare at it then?" 

"Mm," Yennefer hummed in reply. Her gaze slanted towards the path leading into Bran Castle's estate, "How many people do you think sneak in there every year?" 

Kalis glanced back at the grand structure, green eyes lit mischievously. "Why? You wanna sneak in? See if ole Drac's got big dick energy?" 

The dark-haired woman rolled her eyes, though an entertained smile stuck to her face. "You know - you're starting to prove the American stereotype correct." The harmless insult was received with mock offense on Kalis's end: a hand over her heart and an audible gasp. "I'm sure you've heard worse." This earned her a smirk, instead.

They continued on the tour, traveling from one end of the town to the next. Of course, it was fitting Yennefer's interest remained on the buildings, but Kalis seemed to like the shopping experience. Another thing Yennefer chalked off to a stereotype gone right. Back home, Yen wasn't much of a shopper - certainly not in clothes. Her body having been as mangled as it was, anytime she went into a store to get something nice to wear had ended in panic attacks and days of resenting her body. 

Her family hadn't made the fact easier on her, either. Her stepfather was a drunk with a nasty quip for everything (as well as a firm hand), and her mother was a spineless woman with too many kids to focus on. Focusing on Yennefer and her troubles had become too much of a burden after her birth father had passed away, and the two adults had pushed her out of the house as soon as she was of age. Luckily, the neglect and abuse had left her in better shape to be independent. Something Kalis hadn't experienced, considering how often she called daddy dearest for more spending money. _Beyond_ just her rent. 

"Isn't it crazy that Romania doesn't have a drinking age?" Kalis commented, a drink in her hand as she did. The tour in Bran was long over and the two had settled back in Brasov into a bar for the night. A few drinks to calm the nerves before a busy work day tomorrow for them both. Kalis was in Romania for the art. She was hoping to run her own gallery back in New York and that suddenly meant traveling to every country imaginable to find 'rare and lost masterpieces.' Or, to get her fill of adventure on her dad's credit card before returning home to the real world. Not that Yennefer blamed her. The real world sucked. If her own dad were rich and alive, maybe she'd use him for his money too. 

"You still have to be 18 to buy a drink here." 

"Yeah but technically there's no age limit."

"Technically. But you still showed your ID." Kalis sighed heavily and downed her first drink. 

_Oh._ She was an experienced customer.  
This was going to be a long night. 

And it was. The hours melded and soon they were approaching midnight. Yennefer had ignored most of the men's invitations to go home with them, but Kalis seemed rather inclined after her... _How many drinks had she had, now?_ Too many that Yen had lost count. Not that the raven-haired woman ever let the bubbly babbling blonde out of her sight. Despite Kalis's thrill, she would be safely tucked into bed by the end of this, with a water bottle and some painkillers on her bedside table for tomorrow morning's nightmare. And a trash bin, in case she puked her fun night up. 

Hell, maybe she would make a good mother. The sarcastic thought made her smirk. 

Finally, after Kalis had started to trip over her own two feet, Yennefer deemed it the right time to leave. She wrapped a supportive arm around the smaller blonde and escorted her out of the bar, with the bartender making sure no one followed the poor 'foreigners' home. Yennefer would have tipped him extra if she hadn't spent most of her savings on the move, rent in advance, and now all of these tours Kalis wanted to take her on. Sure, Kalis had offered to pay, but the taller woman had declined. She never liked the feeling of being indebted to someone she didn't truly know. And that was just about everyone. 

At least the walk back to their apartment was a nice one. The stars shone brightly overhead - almost as much as the full moon, the cobblestone streets were reminiscent of history long forgotten, and the lamps were dim but lit enough to pave the way. Kalis had described it like _Cafe Terrace at Night_ by Vincent Van Gogh mixed with anything by Dmitri Danish. For all of Kalis's superficial flaws, Yennefer saw the rarity behind the mask. The girl who wanted something that could only be found in paintings: **peace.** Being content, satisfied, happy, at ease. Every painting she gravitated towards, or at least had shown Yen, had given off those vibes. Yennefer supposed it was because Kalis had never known stability. Her father constantly traveled, himself. Her mother had died when she was young, and her maids took shifts raising her. She had gone to three different private schools, and nothing slowed down. So she adapted, and she was a walking tornado because of it. 

Yennefer wanted to protect her. Like an older sister might have.  
It was a fierce thought at the wrong time. 

Suddenly, there was a growl. _A hiss in the distance._ Footsteps pounding incredibly fast behind her. Yennefer's first thought was that it was an animal. A rabid wolf on the loose in town, or maybe some sort of big cat. What kind of big cats did Transylvania have, again? She didn't have time to ponder. Because the moment she turned her body to defend herself against the beast, it was already on top of her. 

And it **wasn't** an animal.

Kalis yelped as she fell to the ground, then Yennefer heard her scream in terror. Yen didn't have time to process why, because whoever had attacked her had disappeared again into the shadows. They were too fast, way too fast. There was no bloody way they were **that** fast. She moved quickly - far less quickly that her attacker, she noted - towards Kalis, grabbing her shoulders and lifting her urgently, "We have to run. Get up! Run!" Kalis could barely manage her own two feet when they were _walking,_ let alone running. Yennefer still held onto her as they scrambled further down the road, shouting for help as they did. But it was late into the night and they were both weighed down by the tour and the drinks and physical exhaustion. And no one was coming to help. 

It reminded Yennefer of an article she read back in a class of hers. About a woman in New York who had gotten attacked at night in the street, near a busy apartment building. She was screaming her lungs away, but everyone who had heard her figured someone else would call the police. So no one did. The woman ended up dying alone, not knowing why anyone hadn't helped. Was that their fate, here? Everyone assumed someone was coming to help and no one _was?_

Again, Yennefer was hit. This time, it was from behind. The force of the blow was so powerful that Kalis flew from her arms and Yen slid against the cobblestone streets she had admired mere minutes ago. Now, she despised how rough they felt against her face, especially when she felt warm trails of blood down her cheek. She had to get up. She had to keep going. She had to get _help._ Whatever she was fighting against for her life was clearly winning in terms of evolution. There was no way she could best it. The only way Kalis and her were getting out of this alive was catching it off guard, holding it off long enough to escape. But this time, the attacker took no time to fly on top of her, pinning her to the ground with such strength her bones felt like they were crushing under the pressure, clawing at her clothes - at her skin. Yennefer thought she heard a demonic snarl beyond her own screaming and crying. Right before _it_ bit down harshly into her shoulder, tearing at the flesh there like it was the kind of meat that **should** fall off the bone. The pain doubled.

The scream that sounded from her chest had never sounded before, and it terrified her more than anything else.  
_It sounded like the scream of a dying woman._

Her world started to fade away quickly, with black dots invading her vision. She felt her attacker lift when Kalis screamed again, but Yennefer could barely move her head to look over towards the blonde. And even if she could, she doubted she'd see anything but black.

 _No, no don't touch her._ She wanted to scream it, but with rage. _Don't fucking touch her!_

She heard Kalis's thundering scream turn into a weak whimper. And then her world fell away to darkness.  
No stars, no moon, no lamp light. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_"Nu...că...respiră!"_

__

__

"....check her..."

_"Nu, verifică!"_

The words and voices barely filtered through. They sounded like whispers down an impossibly long hallway, or behind solid closed doors. Muffled, distant. _But the bodies._ She could feel them pressed all around her. Suffocating her while white noise rang in her ears. But not the sound of her heartbeat.

Yennefer couldn't remember what happened right away. She knew she had been walking home. The stars had been beautiful, as always. The street had been empty. Until, it wasn't empty. She had turned around and...  
And she was with...

 _Kalis._ Where was Kalis? 

_Oh no._

The raven-haired woman immediately sat up, shoving everyone away from her with a force she didn't recognize. They, too, seemed stunned by the exertion. Her breathing intensified.  
Her breathing felt **labored and unnecessary.**

Confusion swept across her expression; she reacted like an animal caged in a trap, lashing out at the hunter who had tricked her inside. _Where was Kalis? What the fuck happened?_ She was walking home and... And she was.... She was attacked. She and Kalis were attacked! Her gaze swung over the street, skipping the shocked faces standing all around her, searching for a drunken blonde with mischievous eyes but finding her nowhere in sight. Nothing but blood on the cobblestone. _And on her own body._ Yennefer held her bloody hands up in front of her face; they were shaking so badly. Apparently, it'd been too long since she had gone through the abuse of her family and classmates. Now her fucking body didn't know how to process the trauma. 

"Where's Kalis?" Wrong move. Her voice came out scratchy and hoarse and in desperate need of water. "Where is she?!" 

The small crowd moved back - there were only five of them, she could see now. All men. They looked young. Maybe about her age, or younger. Had _they_ attacked her? She couldn't be certain. Maybe they were some of the customers at the bar. Maybe they **had** followed her and Kalis, after all. The bartender couldn't watch everyone now, could he? Maybe... But she didn't recognize their faces. Not a single one. And that horrible image of the beast that attacked her - it stained her brain vividly red. 

**Red.** She was so thirsty all of a sudden. The smell that drifted through the street preyed on her attention. _What was that smell?_ Oh god, and where the hell was Kalis? Had the attacker made off with her? What would he do to her? Yennefer's fingertips reached instinctively to feel her neck. She flinched, noting how torn the skin there was. If she had seen it in the mirror, there was no doubt she would have passed out from the sight alone. What was she going to tell Kalis's dad if she didn't get the blonde back? Would he believe her?

"Get off of me!" she screamed, hating the others for drawing too close again, hands outstretched in an attempt to empathize and help and **pity** her. She didn't want help. She wanted justice, and Kalis. And food. And water. And... _What was that pumping noise in her head? That rushing river? That sound..._ It was driving her mad. Her hands flew to her head, palms covering her ears, "Don't go crazy, don't go crazy, don't go crazy." The last thing she needed right now was to lose her control. Her body rocked, comforting itself subconsciously. Her mouth watered. Something in her head told her: **Feed.**

Another hand had the nerve to land on her.  
This time, Yennefer attacked. 

It was almost second nature. One minute she was sitting there, having a mental breakdown, and the next, she was tearing into the man's neck with as much frustration and desperation she had ever felt. The very moment blood touched her tongue, flowed down the back of her throat like silken honey, she felt everything within her come alive. Every atom, every molecule, every nerve - _everything._ Her body was on fire! Burning with new life. 

The sandpaper feeling started to disappear. She felt invincible. She could smell the freshly cut flowers hanging in a window far above them, she could hear a pack of wild dogs running across a bridge two streets over, she could feel the life physically draining from the man in her embrace. Her mouth clamped down harder, teeth crunching into flesh and bone and ruthlessly starved. Some deep, knowing part of her said to stop before it was too late to turn back. But the newborn beast in her laughed: she couldn't.

_It felt too good and she was just so damn hungry._

And one didn't manage to fill her needs. Her wild eyes flickered between the remaining four boys, expressions horrified or mid-scream or shifting to determination. To run away. Not that they would have the chance. Yennefer launched after the closest one, burying her face into his neck, too. And then the next, and the next, and finally she chased after the last with predatory exhilaration. Her mind had stopped thinking logically. Now, she was nothing more than survival's witness. 

It didn't stop there, either. Yennefer drained them all dry before her ears caught the sound of singing. _A sweet lullaby._ It was coming from above her, in a window softly lit by yellow light. Yen's body began to shake, urging her to continue the reckless bloodbath. Her hands dug into the stones of the building, fingers effortlessly crunching the blocks. Yennefer didn't have time to consider the implications of her actions, or her moral compass. She didn't have time to ponder her own attacker, or where Kalis had been dragged off to, or if she were the former's spitting image in her wrath. She just needed to feed; _she needed to feed._

Not five minutes later and there were four more bodies added to her growing list. Two...significantly smaller than the rest. Yennefer stared down at them long and hard after licking her lips, and something within her finally clicked. Her mouth fell open in pain - this time, the emotional sort. It felt like a knife stabbing her into the heart; as if her humanity switched back on, in time to torment her. Her hands went to cover the children's necks, vainly trying to stop the bleeding. What little was left of it. _No, don't die. Don't die on me. I'm so sorry. Don't die. I can fix it._

What had she done?  
**What had she done?!**

Yennefer stumbled away from the family she'd killed. The blood on her hands smelled less like fine wine, and more like harsh misery. So she ran. She flew from the window and landed on the street in a perfect crouch. She knew she could land it, but she couldn't tell how. Her body thrummed nervously. 

Her feet began to pound, one after the other, buildings blurring by as they did. She had to get out of here. She had to find somewhere safe. She had to find Kalis too. For now, though, she would...go home. _Yes._ Wash off. Forget everything. Sleep. Maybe it was all a bad dream. Some sick, twisted nightmare after taking that tour earlier in town. The myths had gone to her head! And the drinks. What did Romanians put in their fucking drinks?! She would find Kalis then, asleep peacefully in her bedroom, maybe with a hangover but no scars or blood or...or _anything_ like that. And then she'd go to work tomorrow and it'd all be fine. It would all be fine. 

Her key wouldn't fit in the door in time. Frustration stirred beneath her skin. Yennefer groaned before she slammed her fists on the door, successfully pushing it open and breaking the locks in the process. How was she managing these things? What was **wrong** with her? She would get that fixed tomorrow. Or maybe it was still a part of her dream and she wouldn't have to spend her money on some creepy locksmith from town. Head pounding, Yennefer slipped into Kalis's room. "Kalis?" 

No answer. No sign of her there, either. The raven-haired woman's stomach twisted into knots. No, Kalis would be fine. She would simply come home _tomorrow._ And if she didn't, Yennefer would look for her, then. Right now, she... She was too tired to anything. The sun would be up at any moment and she couldn't think. All she needed was one more night of sleep. Of sanity. That was it. And then everything could be dealt with tomorrow.

Yennefer stepped into the shower, washing away the blood and dirt and experiences of that night. The sparse rain felt like a raging waterfall on her skin. Everything was too loud, too strong, too _there._ She ran a hand down her face, then through her long, knotted hair. She could smell death on her. She could still smell every person's distinct fucking scent in her nose and she hated it. Her hands reached for the shampoo bottle a fourth time, but she stopped herself. It wouldn't help. A small understanding that slipped past the brewing storm in her mind. 

She slid down the wall of the shower, body settling into the small tub. She couldn't feel the _cold_ of anything, but maybe that was because of the shock? The bathroom was only lit by a buzzing light. No windows, no escape but the door. Something about that comforted her. If anyone broke in, they would have to do it from the door alone. Worn, Yennefer's eyes blinked slowly, arms huddled against her chest, before she eventually drifted off to sleep...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her sleep, unfortunately, didn't last long. 

Yennefer felt a strong hand suddenly grip her chin, the other hand holding something sharp against her chest. Her eyes flew open in fear. _Not again,_ her mind screamed. 

"Please!" she blurted, noticing two others were in the room. Both gripping her extremities to prevent her from _fighting back,_ "You can take whatever you want! Just leave me alone."

Why were they there? Yennefer was tall, sure, but she'd always been slender. Not much in terms of muscle, more in delicate curves. She couldn't take them all, _could she?_ It was an unnecessary setup. Unless it was for **fun.** Her body jerked violently at the thought. Last night's nightmare decided to flood her mind at that very moment. She smelled the blood on her clothes. And the blood on _theirs._

She realized, in passing, her attackers this time were all women. And that sharp thing twisting against her chest in warning? _A fucking stake._

"Can't," the leader replied shortly, eyes leveling with hers, "We came to take _you._ " 

Panic started to spread like wildfire. She thrashed again against her attackers. One of her legs managed to get free, but only for a second. And then it was captured anew. No sense in fighting them like this. She settled back into the tub, chest heaving. Again, her breathing felt... It felt **wrong.** "W-where?" 

The one gripping her chin withdrew, standing tall over the tub with pressed smile. She tossed a towel across Yennefer's naked form, "Aretuza."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO! First fic I've written on here. I'm excited to ride this roller coaster of feels and drama w/ all of you. Please leave any comments below, letting me know if you liked it or if there's things I could do better <3 Thank you!


	2. Aretuza Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A vampire academy in an old, abandoned castle? In the middle of the forest? Naturally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be cautioned: the following chapter deals with child harm/death & suicide.

They kept her on an invisible leash - like an **animal.**

Yennefer made her way through the dark Transylvanian forest with the three other women flanking her. Their leader, sporting exceptionally long blonde hair (a few shades lighter than Kalis's), eyed her at every turn. No doubt to make sure that their captive wouldn't stray too far from the pack. Unless she wanted to pay dearly for it. Everything inside Yennefer screamed to run the opposite way. To go as far away as possible, change her name, dye her hair an unrecognizable color - perhaps a dark shade of red, live in seclusion in a small town where everyone knew everybody, but they never _really_ knew you. Die an old hag with a thousand cats and get the fuck over it. 

But then the guilt might've eaten her up. Leaving Kalis behind, leaving her job and her passion behind, _pretending_ to leave the trail of bodies from the other night behind... Like she was doing now. There would be no life after this. She had tasted death, and she had become the very thing she ate. _Funny_ , she thought as she glanced aside at the others, careful not to trip over her own two feet as she did, _I don't think they ever intended that phrase to be so literal._

They were moving incredibly fast, but some sliver of her tried to pawn it off on anything but vampirism.  
Vampires didn't exist.

It was something she repeated until it sat like poison on her tongue, begging to be spit out. Though the leader of the three women had been rather frank with her earlier. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_"How are we going to get there?" Yen checked, drawing a shirt over her head. The second one she had picked, considering she accidentally ripped the first one with her newfound strength. She decided to wear a long-sleeved grey t-shirt, tucked lazily into black jeans, and white sneakers. To top it off, an over-sized white denim jacket. Not that she would need it. "To um...to..."_

_"Aretuza," the blonde sharply replied, frustrated that Yennefer was too out of sorts to remember anything that was being said. "And we're going on foot."_

_Brows knitted, the raven-haired woman pointed out, "You said it was over 80 miles from here? That's 3 hours by car, already!"_

_The answer was a stupid one telling by the look on the blonde's face. "You don't really think you're human still, do you? After ripping those people apart back in town?"_

_Yen steeled herself, but her stomach threatened to lurch. Every face from the night before flashed through her mind's eye. The last two were the hardest for her to bear. Their wide, innocent eyes. Their small, helpless frames. Their mother had begged for mercy, had tried to protect them from Yen's warpath. But Yennefer had ripped her throat out mid-scream. And then...she had... Her fingers curled painfully against her palms, nails biting into skin, hands shaking as she met the blonde's stare. "It was only a nightmare," she tried to defend herself, but her reasoning came out far weaker than she cared for._

_The blonde laughed shortly, "Try telling that to their families."  
Her fingernails dug deeper, drawing blood. _At least she still bled._ _

_"I was attacked too."_

_"Yeah, by another vampire. We'll find that one later."_

_A half laugh escaped her nose, " _Vampire?_ Is that what you all are? Is that what I am, suddenly?" _

_Dead eyes met her own, "What else would you be?"_

_**Shit.** _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One small benefit to the disastrous two nights was how exquisite the world now seemed to be. Every hue of the forest intensified, every sound down to ants marching rang in her ears - if she chose it to. Heightened senses could be overwhelming, but Yennefer was used to blocking out the world. She had managed the feat as a child, plenty a time. Still, even she found herself faltering when a wolf sounded too close, when it was really miles away, or when the sound of a heart beating drummed in her ears - but it was not her own heart. Yen could feel the dead organ in her chest, taking up space when it need not to anymore. It was scary to admit to oneself. More terrifying than she would have thought. 

Because she was _other._  
No longer human. No longer the Yennefer with delicate aches in her spine.  
They had ceased the moment she woke, covered in blood, searching frantically for a lost friend. 

"How much longer until we're there?" Her voice was unnecessarily loud, if the laughter on everyone's faces had anything to say. 

"Not long. We're almost there," another woman, besides the blonde, responded. Her hair was cut to her shoulders, wavy, and brown. She had an owl's eyes: wide but attentive. Of the three women who had come to take her to this mysterious Aretuza, she was by far the most rugged in appearance. Like an animal that never learned _how_ to be human, instead of the opposite. Except her voice was kinder than the blonde's, and so was the feral grin she gave Yennefer. 

The brunette had told the truth. Another couple of miles and Yennefer could see the looming, Baroque and classicist castle in the distance. It was faded white in color, longer in width than in height, with gable roofs for the wings and a pyramid roof for the taller tower which divided them. All a dark, auburn brown in color. The arches of the tower were cracked but sturdy, leading out onto a second story deck. She could almost picture royalty parading there, leisurely sipping wine and gazing over their private estate. There was a short courtyard with a large fountain sitting center in front of the castle as well, and a few scattered homes mimicking the castle that dotted the left and right edges of said courtyard. One longer than the rest, similar to a lengthy barn. Perhaps a practice hall? The rest were all no doubt for supplies, horses, or living quarters for the servants in their days. 

"How does no one find this place?" she found herself asking the three women.

None of them formed a reply. Yennefer would have to come up with her own answer. She supposed if there were vampires all this time in Romania, some must have had power over the law. And any rebellious teenagers or lone hikers who wandered too far into the forest stumbled upon the castle, they were quickly dealt with. Her hand absentmindedly rubbed her throat; the wound there now healed. As if magically. 

The group slowed until they walked at a normal pace, allowing Yennefer to skim the castle up close. 

Aretuza Castle was a breathtaking sight, but an ominous one as well. How many vampires lived within these walls? How many were as bloodthirsty and monstrous as she had been the night before? How many wanted her _dead?_ How many would vouch for her to live? After all, if the three women had been ordered to kill her, she would have been dead by now. Unless they were going for a classic execution to teach the others a valuable lesson in what **not** to do as a vampire? Yennefer held her head high, but her mind was screaming. In a pitiful way, too. Like pigs squealing before they were sent to the slaughterhouse. 

Questions flooded her mind as they stepped through the giant front doors, but she doubted voicing them would provide any relief. Her eyes skimmed the main room of the tower, beyond the grand staircase that led to the second floor. There must have been stairways elsewhere, considering the tower itself extended beyond two stories. Perhaps four, altogether. With the highest story being a singular room. The wings of the castle remained at two, though. 

Art decorated the room. Kalis's jaw would have dropped at the pieces that littered the walls. They were expensive, ancient and _real,_ and it didn't take an art historian to know that. The chandelier hanging dripped in crystals and brilliance; Yennefer imagined if she stole but a handful, she would never have to work another day in her life. The sculptures that stood against the walls were Greek or Roman, with their half-naked forms twisting into graceful positions. The carpets themselves looked straight out of some medieval film. They were massive and covered most of the plaster floors, a shade of burnt umber that Yennefer could appreciate, under better circumstances.

She was here as a prisoner. Against her will. And Kalis was still out there with that very beast that attacked her.  
The same beast she had become. 

"We are feasting tonight," the blonde began, heading towards the left wing hallway of the castle. "There was a recent Ascension."

"Ascension?" This time the question poured from her lips before she had the chance to halt her curiosity. 

"It means newborn vamps moved up the ranks," the brunette provided, when it seemed like the blonde wouldn't. Her Romanian accent was more noticeable this time. The blonde's accent, however, was unrecognizable still. Maybe Swiss, or Dutch, or German? Maybe a combination of the three? Meanwhile, the third woman had yet to really speak, so Yennefer paid her no mind. The brunette took the liberty of explaining further for Yen, "Aretuza isn't just a castle. It's an _academy._ To teach all the newbies how to control themselves, before they're sent out into the world." 

"So I'm at some elite vampire university, more or less?" 

The brunette smirked, "More or less."

"Great." Yennefer had the nerve to roll her eyes. They weren't going to kill her; they were just going to _bore_ her to death. Make her work for another degree, that didn't exactly exist, when she had barely graduated university a year ago. And what exactly did they hope to teach her? Where someone's arteries were? What people to attack, which ones to let go? How to not massacre a family? 

She swallowed hard. Maybe she ought to be here.  
But on her **own** terms.

"I'm Renfri, by the way," the brunette introduced herself, distracting Yen from her trauma. An exchange of names: it was an appreciated normality, at the moment. 

_But should she lie about who she was?_ "Yennefer." _Too late now._

"That's Sabrina," Renfri continued on, nodding her head towards the blonde. Her head fell in the opposite direction, towards the third woman, "And that's Fringilla." 

At last, Yennefer surveyed the third woman in her entirety. While Renfri and Sabrina held lighter complexions, Fringilla's was a dark brown. With a cool undertone that went along handsomely with the image her name painted in Yennefer's mind: still, _frigid_ waters. Like a lake lost to ice. But her gentle brown eyes... They seemed misplaced. "Are you all...'ascended' already?" 

"No," Sabrina cut in, clearly frustrated by the idle chatter. Or maybe the fact she hadn't ascended yet. She stopped beside two heavy wooden doors, no doubt leading into a dining room. Yennefer could finally hear the chatter on the other end of the wall, cups clinking, and soft music playing - amusingly cliche for a vampire banquet. 

Her heart, if it were alive, would be thundering against her chest right about now. It was one thing to deal with three strangers. It was another to deal with a castle room full of them. In the midst of a _fucking_ party. Yennefer had never been to a party before; she had never been invited to one. And she had skipped school dances, claiming to hate them if anyone asked. When, in actuality, she had been afraid of becoming a spectacle. Especially after seeing _The Hunchback of Notre Dame._ There would be no Esmeralda to come to her rescue from the mob, only a bunch of teachers who looked at her as if she might infect them. Or paint a target on their backs for the rest of the teen demons to latch onto. 

"Remember to bow to her," Renfri advised.  
Yennefer didn't have the time to ask _who._

The wooden doors opened in one, powerful sweep. And suddenly the chatter came to a halt. 

_Oh god, she couldn't do this._ **Run.**

Her feet wouldn't obey. Yennefer gripped her hands tightly, eyes sweeping from one end of the dining hall to the next. It was a spacious room with an antique table resting in the middle of it. 26 chairs, she noted, 12 on either side and one chair each on either end. If only to distract herself from the pairs of _eyes_ on her. A stained glass window behind the farthest end, with moonlight trickling in through it. Like some religious portal to a celestial world beyond this one. A fire was raging in the fireplace at its side. Another table for food and drinks sat at the other end. 

Except it wasn't food and drinks on the table. 

Her mouth fell open, as much as her eyes grew wide, and she must have looked like a gaping fish out of water. There, situated on the table, as if it were the most _normal fucking thing,_ were two parallel **bodies.** Clearly dead. Clearly being drained of blood to satisfy Aretuza's 'Ascension Feast.' They were hardly covered, donning nothing but a thin white cloth over their bits. One man, one woman. At least the vampires played fair in terms of sexism, she supposed. She swallowed down her nausea. And her hunger.

"Where's the Rectoress?" Sabrina asked the room. Was this Rectoress who she was supposed to bow to? 

"I am here," came the dispassionate reply from the other entrance into the room, beyond the table of bodies. A smaller door tucked into the corner of the wall she had passed in detail.

Yennefer would have known this woman was the Rectoress without her ever declaring it aloud. There was a clear, immense shift of power when she proceeded into the room. Her head was held high despite her shorter stature, her posture incredibly straight and refined, her movement precise with each step. Her eyes, sharp and perceptive, remained ahead. _On Yennefer._

Unlike the rest of the feast goers, the Rectoress was clad in a velvet, emerald gown that draped over her petite figure and barely graced the floor with its hem. The gown's sleeves connected into a small cape mid-back; Yen could tell this every time the woman's arms moved with her steps - the brushing of fabric against creamy skin at her elbows, considering most of her forearms were covered in black leather gloves. The front of the gown curved into a V, stopping a few inches below her chest. However, her decolletage was covered with a draping, silver jewel design over a mesh blouse, a transparent shade of black. The start of the design a littler higher than the base of her neck. 

It was almost cruel in the way she dressed, Yennefer thought in passing. Like promising something forbidden and teasing onlookers with a hint of what _could_ be. Though Yennefer could tell when the woman, at last, neared her and the three others, she could care less about appearance. And more about practicality.

"You were all supposed to be back here by the first bloodletting," the Rectoress scolded. This time, Yen flinched at the attention. As if it were her own fault her kidnapping took too long. 

"We ran into some trouble along the way." 

_They had?_ Yennefer hadn't heard about this. What could possibly count as trouble to a group of vampires? Though Sabrina's defensiveness over her having yet ascended came to mind. Maybe it was another vampire, or two, with more strength and speed than the three? Her eyes squinted on their own accord.

_There were really vampires.  
She was honestly saying this too casually._

"There will always be some obstacle in your way when you travel outside these walls. If you cannot handle a simple retrieval of a newborn, how can I expect you to handle a more pertinent task?" It was an invisible slap across their faces. Or maybe a whack of the ruler against their knuckles, considering this was their teacher.

And possibly her own, soon.

"What's your name?" Yennefer struggled to form a response to the intimidating woman. 

"Yennefer." No reaction but a persistent stare. "Yennefer Vengerberg." Despite Renfri's advice, Yennefer remained tall. She wouldn't bow; she wouldn't accept her imprisonment so easily, like a good little girl. Besides, half of her feared the Rectoress might reach for a carving knife while her head was low and cut it clean from her shoulders in a cruel act of entertainment. Another victim to the 'bloodletting,' as the Rectoress had called it. She knew it meant the treatment they had given to the bodies on the side table. The last thing she wanted was to end up there. _Truly_ a pig gone to the slaughterhouse. 

The Rectoress leisurely swept her cat eyes over Yennefer's body in retaliation.

To say it felt like molten lava being poured over her, burning every inch with distaste and indifference, would have been an understatement. That fiercely blue gaze lingered a little too long on areas Yennefer felt inappropriate, but she realized the moment they captured hers again, a glint in their depths - it was merely to size up her worth. And to break her ego. An intimidation tactic to put her into her place. 

And as stubbornly as she tried to not let it show, it worked. 

"You made quite a mess in Brasov, from what I've heard." 

Yennefer ground her teeth together, anticipating the next statement.

"Bodies strewn about, their throats ripped clean out - along with most of their skin," the Rectoress listed as she moved away, headed towards her chair at the end of the table near the stained glass window. Her fingers trailed along the backs of every chair in her path. Every vampire seated focusing on Yennefer with the same look: pursed lips, loyalty in their eyes, and noses lifted to drive the knife further into her wound. "Even the corpses of two children left from your bloodbath." At last, the brunette sat down in her chair - the most regal of them all. The King's chair, Yennefer imagined, long ago when there was a King in this castle. Or a very wealthy Lord. "A hungry one, aren't you, _leech?_ " 

The term was received poorly by the others. Even Renfri drew her lips over her teeth, eyes peeking towards Yen. 

Yennefer understood quickly that the nickname was one said rarely and only saved for the _worst_ of newborns. Her body burned hotter with pride. With **guilt.** "I woke up alone. I didn't know what was happening. I wasn't able to think...properly."

"No? You thought enough to scale a building and devour a family."

Her eyes fell to the floor, unable to meet anyone else's, "I didn't mean to hurt them." 

"Tell me," the Rectoress hummed, leaning back in her chair, looking every bit a hunter who had caught their prey in a trap. "Did you find the taste of a child's blood more suitable to your liking? Is that why they were completely dry, compared to the rest?" 

Yen felt every resolve in her fall away. Her body crumbled in on itself, back arching forward as if punched hard in the abdomen, mouth parting open in agony. Eyes watering - but not enough to spill droplets. She hadn't checked the damage. She knew she had gone into a frenzy, but she hadn't checked the _damage._ It would have been too much for her. It was too much for her. How could she have drained them dry? The men, sure, the parents, yes, but the... **The children?** Had she really drained them? Hadn't she stopped after the first scream? Come to? Realized enough was enough? She was full? That she wasn't a monster! No... She didn't do it. She didn't mean to do it. She was attacked by a monster, dammit! She had died trying to _protect_ Kalis from that creature. That fucking beast who had cursed her with all of this insanity! That...vampire.

There was a shift in her thinking, small and comforting to her. **Rage.**

These very creatures had the audacity to sit there in their high chairs, judging her with their eyes, for crimes she couldn't control herself from doing? Crimes committed because one of their own had gotten loose in the city? How many of _them_ had gone on their own frenzied warpaths? As a newborn? How many of them had killed people, draining them like animals - as inhumanely as possible, such as the ones lying on the side table? And the Rectoress was going to sit there and make a spectacle of her? No. There'd be Esmeralda to save her, but she wouldn't need someone to save her. She'd save her goddamn self.

" **Fuck this.** " 

Everyone's eyes instantly slid open, surprise on their features. Yennefer had even managed to get a twitch of the eyes from the Rectoress. Something that delighted her. _Good. You do have emotions beyond being a stoic asshole._ She stood again from her doubled over position, hands loosening from their painful clenching. Yennefer glared at the high and powerful vampire with every bit of boldness she could muster. Just in time for her to turn on her heel and escape the room, feeling oppositely like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Yennefer could tell the three women that remained by the doorway were at a loss of what to do. "Rectoress?"  


The raven-haired woman wouldn't have to turn back to see the deadly smile on the older teacher's lips. She could practically hear it in her tone, "It's unfortunate we have to pick up other's _messes._." The voice sang cruelly down the halls, loud enough for her hearing. If she were any braver, Yen might have ripped the woman's hair out from her neatly threaded bun before she stormed off. But that would have been a reaction caused by hurt, and less by anger. 

Who was she anymore? Was this what life was going to be like, now? Stuck here, in a castle full of monsters, becoming one herself? While dealing with a teacher who thought her the scum of their shoes? Much like her stepfather had: a burden, a mess left over from another man, one they could push around and beat on like it was nothing. Grieving every day - or night - over Kalis and her job and the future she had always dreamed of? 

It was no life she wanted. 

"Yennefer!" Renfri called from behind, jogging up to match her lengthy pace. There was understanding in her eyes, but an unspoken one. "I'll show you to your room." A beat passed as they turned a hallway. "She wants me to lock you in, too."

"Of course she does." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The room was simple in design, but big. Much bigger than her bedroom back at the apartment in Brasov. The bed was plain, the walls were a muted shade of blue, and the carpet was dark. It could have faded into the wooden floors, if they were only some shades darker. There was a dresser and a vanity, but the mirror was broken. Maybe a newborn didn't like the way they looked after arriving here. Maybe they couldn't even see their reflection. It wasn't as if Yennefer had had a fucking moment to process and check. 

She went to sit down on the bed, head falling into her hands. 

It was like the rose-colored glasses had fallen off. The trance she had been in since turning had ceased to be. Yennefer had done what any normal person might have done in these circumstances. Taken one step at a time, given there was constantly a weapon at her back to drive her. Whether a stake, a knife, _another vampire._ But now...sitting alone in the room... All she had were her thoughts. And they raged wars against her will. They tore down walls, broke through barriers, disrupted every desire to fight on. For Kalis, for herself, for everything. 

There would be no returning to life before this. 

And she didn't want this one. 

Her eyes lifted towards the small fireplace. The wood untouched. 

She had killed two children. She was _worse_ than that monster that attacked her and Kalis.  
If she ever found the blonde again... The screams Kalis had made played in her mind. 

No one would want her like this.  
And she couldn't protect anyone, least of all, herself. 

The flames ignited, starting to spread across the room rapidly. 

She may not know a lot about vampires, but she knew one sure way how to kill one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Aretuza Castle is based off of Wessélenyi Castle! However, we're relocating it from Jibou to about 80 miles southeast of Brasov. And changing a bit of its design to fit what I envisioned. Also, Tiss's outfit (bc it's chef's kiss): https://tinyurl.com/rt47q5s & https://tinyurl.com/spga2b2. Annnd my inspiration for the dining hall: https://tinyurl.com/trrnz6s. Hope you all enjoyed!


	3. Flowers Die; Weeds Grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why is Yennefer treated so horribly? Her theatrics are not the reason (surprisingly).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be cautioned: the following chapter deals with suicide by fire.

The flames devoured her, wreaking havoc against hair, skin, and muscle. 

Yennefer tried to refrain from screaming as long as she possibly could - anything to prevent the others from finding out about her plan. They were too invested in their Ascension Feast, anyway. Another batch of demons to unleash upon the world, like the one that had attacked her. Like the one she was bound to become if she chose to stay. Luckily, they wouldn't smell the fire, having a lit fireplace in the dining hall. They wouldn't smell charred skin over death lying on their table, either.   
But they would hear the scream. A blood-curdling scream, while her body writhed in agony. 

So she held out. Until Death, itself, gripped her arms and yanked her from this world, dragging her into the next. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How familiar this was. Darkness. Silence.   
Then sounds and smells and sixth senses began to fade back into existence.  
 _How terrifying._

Yennefer felt a body beside her, leaning over to have a closer look at her face. Their fingertips were rough, but their touch was gentle. They seemed to be tracing shapes into her skin. For a moment, the raven-haired woman pondered if witchcraft were as true as vampirism. However, her mind could only handle so much nonsense in such a brief amount of time. So, she tucked it away for another day.

Another day. She was alive.  
 **She'd failed.**

The young woman's eyes opened fast and wide - alert, in case the person hovering above her would want her dead for _trying_ to die. Instead, her eyes caught sight of understanding ones. The only kind ones she'd met since her turning.

"You didn't tell us you were a pyromaniac," Renfri commented, ungracefully dropping her hand from Yennefer's face. 

_I figured one shitty reveal made for the next decade. Or ten._ She found herself staring instead of replying. How could she have fucking failed at her own death? The one thing she should have been successful with!

Renfri leaned back in her spot on the bed, drawing her legs up and under her body in a crisscross motion. "How was dying by fire?" Her tone remained casual despite the topic, studying the taller woman beneath her, "And how did you keep yourself from _screaming_ for so long? It had to be painful."

She didn't have time for this. Yennefer moved to sit up, stubbornly ignoring her body's protest. Unfortunately for her pride, her body won the fight and she fell back onto the bed with a solid thump, _"Mmnph."_ Her throat was sore; it felt like sandpaper, again. And the last time it had felt that way... Yennefer's gaze strayed from Renfri's stare, willing her vision not to blur from tears any longer. They wouldn't do her any good, here. Nothing, apparently, would. 

Without a word, Renfri reached towards the nightstand beside the bed, wrapping her right hand around a cup. She pushed it forward, "Here. Drink this."

"No," Yennefer resisted. The scent of blood - pure and metallic - filled her nostrils. 

The movies lied. Blood didn't smell like roses and cinnamon and whatever concoctions they tried to come up with when it concerned vampires. It was still blood. Liquid iron, and nothing more. But the taste? The taste was something else altogether. As if taking liquid iron and aging it like fine wine - powerful wine. You could practically _feel_ a person's life in blood. Surging, when the adrenaline and fear kicked in. Fading, when the body was near drained. Filling every part of you with something **more**. It beckoned Yennefer, deliciously. Luring the monster out of the den with wicked glee. If it were a movie scene, she would imagine the persuader with a creepy, singsong voice like they perfected in 70's horror flicks. Or had it been the 80's?

"You were with someone when you got attacked, weren't you?" Yen's eyes hardened on their own accord. Despite so, Renfri wiggled the cup in her hand, "We couldn't find her. Which means she might be alive. Possibly a newborn." Yennefer sighed then glanced towards the cup. "You should keep your strength and wits about you." 

Argument working in Renfri's favor, Yennefer relented, accepting the cup from the brunette before setting it down on the nightstand. When Renfri displayed frustration, Yen assured her gently, "I'll drink it later... After we're done talking."

Curiosity found the other vampire's eyes, "What about?"

"Are you the one that stopped me?" Because saved didn’t sound right; not when she meant to do it. The gaze fell fast, unable to meet Yennefer's eyes. 

"No." It was concise. Point blank. Like staring in the barrel of a loaded gun. 

Betraying an answer Yennefer wouldn't want to hear. "Who did?" 

Even before Renfri spoke, the dark-haired newborn knew. "The Rectoress." Death, itself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Renfri had wandered off to handle tasks given to her for the night, Yennefer decided to skim her new room in idle boredom. Drinking from the cup left behind, if only to cure her temporary troubles.

Unlike the other bedroom, this one didn't have a fireplace. A smart decision, she supposed in passing, with a sarcastic curl of her lips. It didn't have windows, either. Only now did she consider the sun. _Would it burn her, too? Would it kill her?_ She wouldn't sparkle like the vampires in Twilight, would she? It would be nice to walk in the sun, again, sure. But she almost hated the idea of being a glittering diamond in the daytime. Looking less intimidating and more treasure-worthy, especially as a woman. And if the sun could kill her, then why was she locked in the other room? The one with two oval windows and drapes that caught fire faster than Yennefer had imagined they would? Had the Rectoress planned on it? Had her smart mouth garnered her her first punishment? Or her second death?

But if the Rectoress wanted her dead, then why had she saved her?

And why had she sounded just outside of Yennefer's fucking door.   
_Go away!_ She wanted to shout when the knob turned. _Leave me alone._ Of course, life was never considerate of her feelings.

"I was told you were finally awake." Indifference in her tone, the Rectoress's eyes washed over Yennefer. This time, the younger woman wasn't sure what she saw in their depths. Disappointment? _Check._ Annoyance? _Check._ But there was something else there... Something she couldn't put her finger on, no matter how much she secretly wanted to. "Do you know how many people wouldn't blink if you died?" If there was ever a morbid competition where competitors had to talk a person down from suicide, there was no doubt in Yennefer's mind that the Rectoress would come in dead last. Perhaps she wouldn't even qualify. Host her own anti-competition, where they did everything in their power to push someone over the edge instead. 

"Then why stop me?" Yennefer wished she would have hidden the cup - now fully empty - from view. The Rectoress peered into it, finally pleased with something the newborn had done. "You should have let me die. At least I had some control over that." Unlike her fucking turning. 

"Oh, that's adorable, leech. You think _that_ was a display of control?" The brunette stepped closer to the bed, but not before Yennefer could tell that her dress had been ruined. Scorch marks and burned holes littered the once elegant attire, casting a dark shadow in the face of wealth. "That was you **losing** control.” The older vampire picked at her gloves – the only thing untouched by the incident. Yennefer realized that she had changed them. The old ones likely lost to the flame. Had the Rectoress’ hands burned the second she touched Yennefer’s body? Had she been in pain, saving the dark-haired girl from her own form of it? _Good,_ Yennefer thought, but the word didn’t feel right for the situation. “If you're to reside here, we're not to repeat our mistakes. Do you understand?" 

Her pride swallowed up whole, Yennefer bit her bottom lip hard while the Rectoress collected the cup on her nightstand. "How am I not dead? I felt the fire."

"You should be dead," the Rectoress agreed, "But today, you get to live." 

"How, though? How did I survive that?" How could she make sure she didn’t, if there ever was a next time?

"Have you read the history on Elizabeth Bathory?" The name didn't ring a familiar bell. While architecture and history coincided, Yennefer hadn't spent as much time counting years and conquerors as much as she wish she suddenly had. The Rectoress was able to tell her answer, pushing past it, "Of course not. She's a forgotten figure, but an important one to you now, leech. Elizabeth Bathory was a vampire. One of the most infamous of our kind for her...fancy towards younger, virgin women. And her bathing habits." 

"So what? She was some sort of lesbian cougar who liked orgies in the tub?" Yennefer mocked, wanting the older woman to get on with it. To get to the point. Since it was eating her up inside not to know. “What does that have anything to do with me surviving the fire?”

The vampiric teacher's lips curved into a cruel smile; for a moment, the dark-haired newborn thought she might withhold the truth. Already her stomach burned and twisted, her body thrumming with annoyance. With rage. It was a big pet peeve of hers when someone started to mention something, only to say a quick _nevermind_ or _wasn't important_. Thankfully, the Rectoress had a lesson valuable enough to teach that she continued, "She would slit their throats, drain them into the tub, and bathe in their blood. For her, it was less to do with hunger, and everything to do with beauty. She believed bathing in the blood would make her irresistible, not only to humans - but to vampires, as well. The _most_ beautiful creature of them all." Yennefer swallowed. The mental image stained itself in her brain. But instead of some fabled Countess, it was the Rectoress - with those two bodies back in the dining hall on either side of her tub. 

And the worst part is... As much as Yennefer despised the image...  
It excited her, too. Deep down. Past conscious thought and reasoning. 

Is that what she wanted for herself? _No._

"Yeah, and how does that have anything to do with me?"

There was a slip of patience on the Rectoress’ end. Her voice sharpened, "When a vampire resorts to roasting themselves in their room, we've come to realize letting them soak for a few hours in a tub of blood reverses their mistake far faster than forcing them to feed in their state. Which, more or less, is a headache." 

A tub of blood. **She was in a tub of blood.**  
The bodies from the dining hall stacked now. To fill a tub, there'd have to be more than two.   
Yennefer felt sick.

"…You killed virgins-"

A harsh laugh fell from the Rectoress's lips, "You think we gathered virgins for your ridiculous stunt?" Yennefer's jaw clenched. "For one, it was considered a 'delicacy' to Countess Bathory. Two: finding virgins in this day and age is like finding a needle in a very large, very filthy haystack. We didn't have the time nor the material, leech." 

Hoping to move on from her lapse of judgment, Yennefer challenged the Rectoress, "And who dressed me?" The foreign clothes hugged her frame, accentuating her slender curves nicely. They were expensive; Yennefer could tell simply by the fabric. And they were impossibly dark in hue. A shade of black where no light could seep through. Like a black hole – accurately representing the creatures Aretuza was home to. “Did you?” 

She hoped not. The vulnerability from her suicide was enough to last her a lifetime. Let alone her naked body being manhandled by the Rectoress. 

“No,” the brunette said, clipped in tone. “Sabrina did.” Well, that wasn’t much better. “Now, when you’re done with your little pity party, meet us all downstairs in the courtyard in an hour for your first lesson. Leave your theatrics at the door.” The Rectoress turned to leave the room, but Yennefer halted her.

“Who _are_ you?” 

Without turning her head, the vampire replied, “Tissaia de Vries. Don’t be late.”  
And then Tissaia de Vries was gone. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Glad to see you made it,” one of the male vampires greeted her outside the front door. His eyes were exceptionally bright against the backdrop of dark skin, reminding her of a full moon in the midnight sky. The very same one that hovered over their heads, watching the night creatures with a motherly gaze. 

Yennefer had fallen in love with the later hours as a kid; it was the only time she ever had a sense of comfort and peace. The time she was able to be herself, smile and laugh and play her games, and avoid the mocking stares and harsh hands of the world. Particularly from her own family. Evening granted her the freedom she was stripped of during her days. It wrapped itself around her with accepting arms. Once, she’d been afraid of the dark – as most kids were. The boogeyman and his monsters lived in the dark, after all. It was something adults said so often that it became a child’s religion. That is until Yennefer discovered the truth: the real boogeymen walked in daylight. The dark was only a safe haven from their cruelty. One they didn’t want you to know about.

“I don’t think I had much of a choice.” Ahead of them were Sabrina, Renfri, Fringilla, a handful of unfamiliar faces, and the Rectoress, herself. 

“Maybe,” he said, offering an arm for her to take – a gentlemanly thing to do, executed well enough for her to allow. She looped her arm around his, “Just maybe… You have more choice than you ever had before.” Her eyes betrayed her troubled interest in the conversation, before she returned her gaze to the courtyard and its fountain. 

“Maybe you were a therapist when you were human.” The quip made him laugh, and Yennefer found herself admiring the deep tone of it. She smiled. 

“Maybe, Yennefer.” 

As soon as they stepped out into the courtyard, all eyes instinctively fell on her and her newfound companion. The urge to run away bubbled up within her chest, but the arm at her side grounded her to this world. She would have to thank him later for the support. And get his damn name. In private, away from prying eyes and ears. Her mind drifted to her and Renfri’s chat in her new room, and how painfully normal it felt to have a one on one like that. 

The Rectoress dropped her narrowed gaze to their interlocked arms, lips twitching into a frown at the display, before she began, “Today we are learning one of several uses blood offers vampires. While you are all familiar with its sustenance, and some of you are familiar with its healing properties-" Tissaia’s eyes flickered to Yennefer, holding her gaze until the younger vampire shifted uncomfortably in her place. “-It can also serve as a lens, so to speak, into the life of your prey.” 

“A lens?” Fringilla pondered aloud. The rest of the group appeared just as curious as she, including Yennefer. 

“You’ll be able to see their memories.” At this, Sabrina’s brow and lips raised. Yennefer considered the possibility of seeing into another vampire’s life. Could they drink vampire blood? She saved the question for another time. “For younger vampires such as yourselves, the typical limit is the last 24 hours. Anything before that is hazy and potentially influenced. Think of it like projecting a dream onto a person’s subconscious.” 

“Do people know we’re doing it?” Renfri checked.

“Yes and no. Most cannot, but certain people can. Humans call them psychics. We call them Seers. Given their natural talent, 9 times out of 10 they’ll know you’re spying. One of my older students is a seer. She retains her power, even as a vampire.” 

“What’s her name?” This time, Yen had taken the liberty of asking.   
She felt everyone shift their attention towards her. The temptation to do something bonkers came to mind. If only to give them a show, since they clearly expected it. Not that she had room to argue. She had cussed and stormed away from the feast, then set fire to her room and herself. Tissaia was justified in telling her to leave the theatrics at the door, but Yennefer was too pissed to accept the fact. 

“Her name is Triss. You’ll meet her by next week when she returns from her travels.” The Rectoress assumed the topic concluded, moving on, “For vampires as old as myself, the lens’ scope is a bit longer. Weeks, months, years. Some perfect the practice, and some still need time deciphering between flashes. For the first part of your task tonight, I want you all to go into the forest and retrieve an animal. Preferably something bigger than a rabbit or a bird. Bring them back here, unharmed. And be quick. Istredd?”

“Yes?” the male beside her responded. _Ah, so that was his name._

“Accompany the leech.”

“Of course, Rectoress.” 

Without another word, the group began to disappear into the forest. Istredd, taking her by the hand than the arm, led her into the tangled and foggy environment. They passed by trees broken and bent and twisted and desperately clinging to each other, growing feral underneath the traces of moonlight that passed through their spidery fingers. The forest was life, Yennefer had decided. It thrummed like a million heartbeats in one. It was a city all on its own. Instead of cars, there were wolves. Instead of people, there were rabbits. Instead of buildings, there were trees that reached incredible heights. As a human, it was already a sight to see – an experience to ingest. But as a vampire? It was everything and more. A fraction of reality that seemed unreal. 

Istredd began to slow, hinting to their choice of meal, “Boar or deer?” 

“Boar.” If she couldn’t avoid slaughtering a human family, she could avoid slaughtering Bambi’s.   
Yen shook her head; the Disney references needed to stop. It was absurd.

“As you wish.” 

They stumbled upon a small group of wild boars not a minute after. Istredd hung back, insisting Yennefer hunt for one first. Something about it being easier than having them all scattered, but the raven-haired woman was no fool. He was making sure she couldn’t run off on a hunt, thus making it harder to babysit her. She obliged. 

Yennefer hid behind a tree. Her throat clenched when a boar drew nearer to her spot. Its face angled towards her, but then back towards the ground, breathing heavily against the dirty there. She watched as particles of dirt floated slowly around its body. A mere distraction from her burning throat. She was starving. It made sense, after only having a single cup of blood since arriving in Aretuza. Repeating the Rectoress’ instruction, Yen focused herself. She couldn’t afford another slip-up. She didn’t want to burden Istredd with cleaning up her mistake. He didn't deserve the hassle.

But as soon as she pounced on the boar, her impulses kicked into overdrive.   
And her fangs dug deep into the boar’s neck. 

“Yennefer!” 

What happened next was a blur: Yennefer devouring the boar, and then the others nearby, then hunting after the ones that escaped the small clearing. And poor Istredd doing everything in his power to stop her. 

She growled at his touch, clashing with his body over another boar, sending the two of them rolling across the forest floor and down a hill. A few branches scraped against her skin, through the short-sleeved top and pants. So much for her expensive fabric. Blood smeared across her face, Yennefer struggled to get out of Istredd’s arms, chomping at his skin like a rabid beast. He barely managed to avoid her bite. 

“Yennefer, stop! Resist it!” 

Oh, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t control herself. Everything was pulsating, again. Rushing blood drowned out her hearing; her eyes darted to every source in their vicinity, frenzied in their want. “Let me go!” she shrieked – like a bat caught by its wing. Istredd was strong, but he wasn’t strong enough. He lost his hold on her and Yennefer flew past his head, diving headfirst into a bush nearby. A rabbit now meeting its fate. 

“You must learn to resist it!” he called from behind her, as she skimmed past a few more trees in her search. She needed more. More! She needed bigger, juicier, fatt-

Suddenly, his hands were on her.   
He pinned her, successfully, against a tree. She screamed and kicked in fury, hair falling into her face and painting her mad. She had gone mad; another point to Tissaia she would begrudgingly award. 

“I’m hungry,” Yennefer cried out, after her efforts proved futile. Another deep, rumbling groan reverberated from her chest, “I’m hungry! I’m starving. Please, please, please.” The pitiful act was a manipulation – and not on her own accord. The monster within her had taken over, leaving the old Yennefer behind in its scheming. 

“You’re not prey,” Istredd barked. His voice grew softer. “Look at me. Look at me! You are not prey to your hunger. Prove her wrong. You can do it.”

“I can’t.”

“You must. Or you will die, at her hands.” Yennefer fought him, driving a blow to his side. He slumped, but stubbornly rooted himself in his spot. At last, Yennefer's wrath faded in his hold, feeling exhausted by the tussle. Istredd took this as a sign of her recovery, leaning his forehead against hers – another way to ground her. "You're stronger than this. I believe you are." He managed to appeal to her human nature, but the monster festered not far behind that. Yennefer considered one last blow to his body. But before she could...

“Are you two done with your lovers’ quarrel?” _Renfri! Oh, thank fucking god._ Yennefer snapped her attention towards the short-haired brunette, pleading for help with her eyes. In what? She didn’t know. Maybe that understanding gaze and carefree grin could make things easier on her dead heart. At least more than Istredd’s therapy could right now. Or maybe to let her go wild and rugged and destroy everything in her path. “I could hear you all the way to Iceland.” 

“We’ll make sure to keep the noise down next time,” Istredd humored, but Renfri seemed unamused. 

“You did a fine job at watching her, Istredd,” the other woman commented shortly, moving to separate the two of them. Her hand found Yennefer’s, instead, “C’mon. We need to return or the Rectoress will have all of our heads.” No warpath, then. 

“But we don’t have an animal,” Yennefer admitted. “I killed them.”

“There’s some deer on the way back.”   
There goes Bambi and his family.

At last, they returned to the courtyard. Tissaia straightened from the fountain rim, hands curling into tiny fists. Yennefer sighed in preparation. “You three are late. Where have you been?”

“We ran into a bear.” The lie fell too easily from Istredd’s lips. Anyone would have believed him. Yennefer made note of it in passing; she'd avoid being naïve. 

Despite her annoyance and impatience, the older vampire spared them a lecture, “You smell more of boar than bear, Istredd. Now take your animals and begin feeding like the others.”

It was strange to feed in front of Tissaia and the group. Unlike in the forest, Yennefer had regained enough control to do so without making a fucking mess and spectacle out of it. But she felt like a pet being given scraps by its owner, with said owner keeping an eye on her the entire time she ate. The raven-haired woman could feel the cold disapproval without having to look up. Sure, it strayed to the others when they made their discoveries, but never for long. Even as the bored voice rambled on, informing them the best way to access memories through blood, Yen was held captive in Tissaia’s line of sight. Shifting, fangs dug further into the deer’s neck. She had yet to see anything, and it was becoming pathetic. _Work, goddammit. Work!_ But the memories refused to flood her mind, no matter how hard she tried. 

“Your body is still weak from the fire, leech. Perhaps you ought to retire to your room.”

Yennefer ignored her. She bit into different places on the deer’s body, hoping the act might spark something. Nothing, though. And the memory lens thing wouldn’t fucking work if her deer was dead. Which it was about to be. 

Tissaia moved to come stand in front of Yennefer and her dead deer. Forced to give up, the newborn finally met her steel blues. They were as icy as Russian winters. Beautiful in the deadliest of ways. Had Yennefer known her before, as an architect, she would have crafted her home in a sleek, modern design. Intimidatingly perfect, deceptively open. Ever so quietly, Yen was doomed by the Rectoress’ words, “Sometimes, a flower is just a flower. And the best thing it can do for us is die.” 

Yennefer swallowed hard. The last bit of animal blood driven further down her throat. It wasn’t as powerful as a human’s blood, but it did the job well enough. Save for now.

The older vampire stared down at her for what seemed a century before her head gestured towards the fountain, dead expression mastered, “Go look at yourself in the fountain, leech. It's time you knew what sort of monster you truly are.” 

Istredd instantly stood, “Do you think that's wise ri-" A hand was raised, silencing him altogether. 

“Go look.” Yennefer stood carefully, afraid she would be knocked down by Tissaia as soon as she did. However, she was left to wander slowly and hesitantly to the fountain. Upon arriving at its rim, the dark-haired thing glanced back towards Istredd and Renfri, first, then Tissaia last. Finally, she licked her lips in nervousness and lowered her gaze into the fountain water. 

_A pair of vibrant, violet hues stared back at her._   
They were beautiful and horribly strange all at once. 

Yennefer moved a hand quickly to her temple, drawing her fingertips closer to her left eye. The other hand stirred the water in shock, thinking it an illusion capable of being broken by the movement. However, when the water calmed anew, those purple eyes remained glued to her face. Threatening to crumble her identity altogether. 

“W-what’s wrong with my eyes?”

“Wrong question, leech."

Yennefer spun on her heels, angry, “Did you do this to me?”

“Wrong question,” Tissaia repeated, evenly. Her hands folded before herself. Observing. 

“What is the right fucking question?! I'm tired of guessing!” At this, her instructor stayed silent. Yen screamed, shaking from the power of it. “Why are my eyes like this?” 

Tissaia's jaw worked, lips rubbing. “Because you’re a descendant.”   
Finally! An answer!

“A descendant of whose?” Yennefer asked, helplessly confused.

The group’s unified vision moved to the Rectoress. Istredd and Renfri looked anxious, Fringilla and Sabrina looked bitter, and the rest looked… _They looked scared?_  
What could make vampires look scared?

Tissaia was the only one that looked on without a hint of emotion, “Vladimir Dracula.” 

**No _fucking_ way.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a wait between chapters! As I'm sure most of you know, the virus has the world upside down right now. I've been settling things this past week (between work and hysterical family), so I have had little time to sort out story details - which was important in this chapter. I hope you all are staying safe and sane in this trying time <3 Also, I've reworked this chapter several times so I'm essentially giving up and publishing it. Alas!


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